


Kelly, the Well-Meaning and Very Confused Barista

by chaya



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaya/pseuds/chaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An outside observer confuses the 'barbershop quartet' as one woman with a really bad habit for cheating. Complete fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZepysGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZepysGirl/gifts).



> Zepysgirl specifically requested that this story be pulled out of [Mixed Bag](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1925544/chapters/4156257), where it was originally written out in pieces, and given its own, simpler place for reading and reccing purposes. I've been reluctant to do that for a long time because it feels like cheating to repost old content, but I've gotten at least four requests for this since the 'Kelly' stories started, so I hope this is more helpful than irritating.
> 
> This originally came from a prompt from bluandorange for [an outside observer confusing the ot4 as one person dating/cheating on three different people](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/94190972071/bluandorange-answered-outside-observer-confuses).

Kelly’s pretty sure the red-haired woman doesn't work in any of the offices in the building. She always comes in from the street, not the elevator, and she doesn't come in just before 9 to order something to go, or around lunch, or just after 5. She comes in whenever, and she always sits by the big window that overlooks the street, sipping her coffee and eating her pastry.

Kelly thinks she’s really pretty.

Sometimes the woman comes in every other day, and sometimes she doesn’t come in for several weeks. There’s no rhyme or reason to it as far as Kelly can tell, but what really shocks her is when she comes in WITH someone.

And the guy is FIT.

The woman orders her usual two-sugars coffee, and the guy stutters and orders a black one. He’s six feet tall and built like a Mack truck. Blond hair, big blue eyes, long lashes. Red-haired woman snatched up a good one. Kelly stifles her disappointment at the woman’s possible heterosexuality and plugs in the order, takes the exact change, and watches as they both sit at the woman’s usual table.

Maybe they’re not dating. The guy’s spine is ramrod straight, hands on the counter and folded over each other like he’s at an interview or something. She’s not so nervous, though. She never is. In fact, she’s grinning at him. Maybe he’s a coworker she’s trying to seduce.

Get it, red-haired lady.

Over the next couple weeks the woman comes in alone and with blond guy in about equal measures. The guy’s body language relaxes a little over time; he smiles when she makes jokes, and he even makes a couple jokes of his own. Kelly can’t hear them, but he’s got this goofy smile on like he’s proud of himself for coming up with it, and Kelly has to hide her expression behind the counter because OH MY GOD.

Maybe she’ll finally bag him and they’ll have little strawberry blond babies and they’ll come in with strollers one day. Kelly wants that.

She comes up with a backstory in her head. They work at a gym together. (Why else would they look like that?) Blond guy is new and the woman’s been showing him around. Blond guy’s working up the courage to seal the deal but he hasn’t yet.

Days pass. The shop gets these new little berry tarts that are the cutest most scrumptious looking things ever and if Kelly wasn’t cutting back her sugar intake, she would be all. Over. Them. When the woman comes in to order a coffee Kelly gathers up her courage and points to the display, asking her if she’d like to try one. The woman grins and says yes, asking for the biggest size. YES, Kelly thinks. Treat yourself. Those things look amazing.

Five minutes later a gorgeous black guy with a gap-tooth smile comes up and asks if it’s too late to order a breakfast wrap. Kelly lies and says no. (Jake’s working the grill today. He’ll forgive her.)

When the guy’s coffee order comes up he gets it from Jamal and heads over to the woman’s table. He SITS DOWN. She SMILES AT HIM. They start talking and when the guy’s food order comes, the woman cuts her tart in half and puts half of it on his breakfast wrap plate. He smiles and makes a show of eating the raspberry on top super delicately.

WHAT HAPPENED TO BLOND GUY?

Kelly stifles the indignant spike. This is not her life. Maybe blond guy wasn’t a good match. Maybe it all just fizzled. But he was SO SWEET. He held the door for the woman, and for random people too, not just the one he wanted to get with. He always thanked Jamal when he got up and took the coffees. Blond guy was a good dude.

Gap tooth guy is the new dude. He’s relaxed and grinning and he probably didn’t have nearly as hard a time finding the guts to take the next step. He looks like he loves steps. Steps are his favorite. Kelly sighs morosely and rearranges the sodas in the display fridge.

More days pass. The woman comes in on her own a few times and Kelly resists the urge to ask what happened. It’s not her business.

She’s completely unprepared when the woman comes in and orders two coffees, with the blond man in tow. He’s smiling easily like everything’s normal.

WHAT?

Kelly puts in the order and takes the exact change. Hands over the receipt. Blond guy looks fine. He doesn’t look like a guy who’s been dumped and is trying resolutely to ‘just be friends’. He has NO IDEA.

This woman is evil.

Kelly keeps herself chill when they sit down together, talking easily as if everything is cool. The woman makes a joke and he laughs, and he makes a (dumb?) joke and she grins, just a little. Jamal catches Kelly watching and tsks.

When they leave, blond guy holds the door for her. He also holds the door for the two old ladies tottering out. Oh. Blond guy.

Change is life, Kelly reminds herself. She psychs herself up so that two days later, when the woman shows up and orders another large berry tart, Kelly knows she’s gonna share it with gap tooth guy and she’s ready for it.

There he is, five minutes later and smiling when it’s his turn in line. He compliments Kelly’s new haircut in a nice, non-creepy way. He stuffs a dollar into the tip jar. Gap tooth guy seems like a good dude.

Kelly realizes with a painful thud that gap tooth guy has no idea he’s The Other Guy.

THIS WOMAN.

It goes back and forth like that, blond and gap-toothed, about once a week, to the point where Kelly’s just jaded and unaffected by it. It’s not her business to say anything. She doesn’t know the whole story. Or even part of it, really. She’s surprised when blond guy comes in one day and asks for the woman’s drink order to go.

"Your girlfriend’s stuck in the office?" Kelly asks evenly, feeling like the world’s best super spy. It’s so innocuous, but his response will be telling.

The tips of his ears go pink. VERY telling. “She’s laid up,” he says, looking uncomfortable. “I mean, she’s, she’s fine, she’s just got a broken leg and she could use some cheering up.”

Kelly nods and punches in the order. How sad. This guy is trying to get her a treat and she’s got a treat on the side he doesn’t have a clue about.

What really takes the cake is when gap tooth guy comes in the next day with the same order. They must both be smitten. Poor dudes.

The woman comes back in a week later like nothing’s changed. Kelly can’t even detect a difference in her walk - maybe she never had a broken leg? She might be a compulsive liar. Or a hypochondriac. (Do hypochodriacs think they get broken bones, or just weird illnesses? Kelly will have to look into that.)

It’s a slow Wednesday that takes the cake, though.

It’s pouring outside, which means not many customers. The people in the office buildings across the street stay in and order sandwiches from the bigger places that deliver. Kelly couldn’t hear a pin drop, not exactly, but Jamal’s mopping across the shop and Kelly can tell his iPod is playing Beyonce.

The door swings open and the woman walks in, taking her hood down. She gestures to the right, and the man coming in behind her, who’s hunched over like he’s got a warrant for his arrest, turns the way she pointed and takes the chair in the corner.

A third dude. JEEZ.

The woman comes to the counter. “One coffee two sugars, one coffee black, a club wrap, and one of every sandwich.”

Kelly's fingertips hover over the register. “We have … eight sandwiches.”

She just nods and pulls out her wallet, putting down a $100 bill. Kelly blinks and make sure to punch in every item before taking it. The woman stuffs the change into her purse without counting it and sits down.

Kelly watches them from between the cookie displays. It’s difficult - the guy is looking in all directions, twitchy, and Kelly thinks maybe THIS one knows. He knows he’s The Other Other Guy. He’s waiting for gap tooth guy and/or blond guy to bust in at any moment and beat him up for being with their girl. (Could he take them? It’s hard to tell underneath all those layers and that sad grey hoodie.) But he’s rooted there, unable to leave, because he’s so desperately in love with Evil Seductress Woman.

The coffee order comes up and the woman gets up to get the cups. The guy looks beyond nervous. Miserable, too. He barely touches his coffee at first and then he starts downing it like it’s the best thing he’s ever had. Kelly wastes time checking stock and refilling the display fridge. When the food order’s up, the woman gets up again to get it, carrying both trays over to the table and sliding them in front of the guy. He just stares at them. She pulls the wrap out of the foil and starts to eat.

It’s so weird. He sits there and cautiously takes a bite of everything in front of him, and it takes like an hour. When he finishes half of the roast beef the woman acts like it’s some big deal, holding his hand across the table and smiling at him warmly. Kelly’s never seen that smile before. This is so weird.

She has no idea how to contextualize this anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hi," Kelly says, because she has no idea what else to say to a guy who looks like his turn to order is comparable to being on the firing line.

"H-" He shuts his mouth and starts again, pushing his hair away from his face and looking resolutely at the counter. "A black coffee. And a coffee with two sugars."

"Okay." She starts punching it in. He’s REALLY nervous. Maybe he’s on the spectrum or something. He looks like he doesn’t know if he’s doing this right. "Seven thirty-six."

He pulls a credit card out of his pocket (just out of his pocket? He doesn’t have a wallet?) and puts it on the counter, hesitant, like he’s not sure if that’s the right thing to give. Who IS this guy? Red Haired Lady’s Other Other Guy is such a mystery.

Kelly takes the card and swipes it. “It worked,” she says, because it seems like the kind of thing he would benefit from hearing. His shoulders actually slump a little in relief. “You can sit back down, and we’re gonna call out your order when it’s ready.”

He nods, like this is new information that he appreciates. He goes and sits back down with the red haired lady, who brushes his leg under the table and leans in. Kelly guesses she’s telling him he did a good job.

Kelly sells power bars to the yoga ladies who are next in line and gives her feet a break, balancing on the wobbly stool by the soda fountain and working on her super spy moves. The mystery couple don’t seem to notice when her gaze lingers on them, taking in the details. Other Other Guy is fiddling with his gloves. Red Haired Lady is talking in a quiet voice.

"So," Jamal says, taking more time than he needs to add two sugars to the order, "first she comes in with the Abercrombie model."

"Yep," Kelly confirms.

"Then it’s the brother."

"Yep."

"Now this basket case."

"Don’t call him that!"

"Am I wrong?"

"It’s… mean."

Jamal fixes Kelly with a look. “He’s a very CUTE basket case. I hope he gets better and debaskets as soon as possible. Still a basket case.” He puts the lids on the cups and sidles over to the coffee counter. “Two-sugar coffee, black coffee,” he calls out, as if he hasn’t been gossiping. Other Other Guy gets up jerkily, wincing at the screech his chair makes as he gets up. The very act of seeing him cross the shop, get the coffees, and go back to the table is somehow painful to watch.

"Hurts to watch that boy," Jamal confirms, already back next to her. "Usually I’d say that and mean he’s too lovely, but this time?"

"I think he might be on the spectrum," Kelly murmurs. "Or something terrible happened to him?"

Jamal looks from Kelly to the man, head cocked. “Actually, the second one. My uncle came back from his last tour and he couldn’t look anybody in the eye for years.”

"Whatever it is, he seems miserable."

"Quit giving your heart out to everyone who walks in the door. You gotta keep something for yourself."

"I am FULL of self-love. My low-sugar diet is going great. I’m drinking lots of water. I took a BUBBLE bath last night."

"Have you answered Tina’s texts?"

Kelly stares. “How did you know Tina was texting me?”

Jamal rolls his eyes. “Nobody that batshit dumps somebody and doesn’t change their mind in a few weeks.” Kelly opens her mouth, and Jamal cuts her off, pointing. “Do. Not. Text. Back.”

Jamal walks away to wipe down the table after the Park Slope moms left Cheerios on every available surface. Kelly rubs her face and sneaks another look across the shop. Other Other Guy is sipping his coffee and looking out through the big plate glass window.

**

Kelly pretends not to notice when Other Other Guy waits awkwardly in line, seems to change his mind about something, and flees back to the table. A hurried conversation with Red Haired Lady. Kelly has to look away because this guy wants the low-fat smoothie made with whole milk and she has to double-check to make sure he realizes he’s defeating the purpose.

Other Other Guy gets back in line. Kelly preps herself mentally. She’s ready for him when it’s his turn.

"Hi," she says. He takes a deep breath like he’s about to confess in front of a jury.

"A club wrap," he enunciates very quietly, "a roast beef sandwich, a black coffee, and a coffee with two sugars."

"Got it." She punches it in, and he puts the credit card on the counter, a little more sure of this step this time. She takes it and swipes it. "Went through," she confirms, and puts it back down on the counter, because maybe handing it to him is… bad? "We’ll call out the coffee order when it’s ready. We’ll bring you the sandwiches when those’re done."

Other Other Guy nods and puts the credit card back into his pocket. He pulls out a five dollar bill and pushes it into the jar before jogging back to the table.

**

Jamal sidles up. “Jake says we’re out of avacado, so no more number fours today.”

"Got it."

"Holy SHIT."

"What?" Kelly looks at Jamal, then to the door - oh SHIT.

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.

BLOND GUY AND GAP TOOTH GUY ARE TALKING OUTSIDE.

THEY KNOW EACH OTHER?

ARE THEY TEAMING UP?

Kelly experiences an almost violent internal urge to warn… someone. Who is her alliance to? She wasn’t ready for this. Does she tell Red Haired Lady to run out the back? No, Red Haired Lady sort of deserves to get caught. Does she tell Other Other Guy to run out the back? He might be the only one who maybe knew what was up, but there’s no way he deserves the beating these two guys are gonna give him.

Kelly’s eyes flick back to Blond Guy’s biceps, flexing under his t-shirt as he gestures something in emphasis to Gap Tooth Guy.

NOBODY deserves the beating those arms would give.

Jamal’s quiet, almost inaudible “oh shiiiiiiit” goes in one ear and out the other as she scooches by him to get around the counter, trotting over to the far table as smoothly as she can to say - something - to Other Other Guy, and she cringes as she hears the bell of the door opening.

She looks over. Blond Guy and Gap Tooth Guy are looking over at them. They know. THEY SEE THEM.

"Yes?" Red Haired Lady says, in the way that makes Kelly think she must have missed the first couple times she said it. Kelly blinks and looks from the two men to the woman and the man at the table.

"I," Maybe she can be a shield. A physical shield. Like one of those hippies that chains themselves to a super old tree. She’ll just stand here, physically existing, for as long as possible. So no violence can happen. "I was gonna tell you, your coffee’s almost up, and," she looks over at Blond Guy and Gap Tooth Guy, who are doing a really super job of looking like they don’t intend to murder anyone. "And, and, do you two want your usuals?"

"That’d be great." Gap Tooth Guy smiles all gappily and why is this happening, why is this so fine, everything seems okay, and when Kelly sneaks a glance down, even Other Other Guy seems fine. Maybe he’s okay with dying? Maybe he’s emotionally and spiritually prepared for it? But no, he’s actually making eye contact with Blond Guy, like he knows him, and Kelly dashes back to the cash register to plug in the order before she realizes she doesn’t have a form of payment. Shit!

"You probably need this." Kelly’s head snaps up and it’s Blond Guy, all smiley and sunshiney and holding out a twenty dollar bill. She takes it.

"Th-thanks." She sneaks another glance to make sure Gap Tooth Guy isn’t sneaking poison into Other Other Guy’s coffee or anything and Blond Guy clearly catches her looking. When the cash til opens up to take the bill, it hits her in the stomach and she winces. Kelly is not smooth. She is a TERRIBLE spy.

"He’s a vet," Blond Guy says quietly, in explanation. Kelly realizes he must think that she’s just disconcerted by Other Other Guy.

"Oh," Kelly says, for lack of anything brighter to say. "He’s… nice." PLEASE DON’T KILL HIM.

"He’s really nice," Blond Guy agrees, and the way he’s smiling now is like Kelly must be some kind of brilliant amazing person, insightful and kind, because she noticed this fact. "Natasha says you turn the music down when he comes in?"

Natasha? Red Haired Lady’s name is Natasha? “He,” Kelly stutters, “it seems to freak him out less. If it’s quieter.” She gestures awkwardly to the back room, which Blond Guy has no way of knowing is where the dials are for the shop speakers, but it’s too late, she’s gestured back there, she’s gestured in a seemingly random direction, she looks insane. “Turn Down for What came on last week and he, he didn’t like it.”

His change. She hasn’t given him his change yet. She starts digging the coins out. “I assume that’s a song?” Blond Guy asks, and Kelly nods vigorously at the dimes in her hand.

"Sort of," she confirms, and he thanks her for the change and leaves a few bills in the jar and walks back to the table.

They’re all talking. Well, most of them are talking. Other Other Guy is listening. He makes eye contact with Gap Tooth Guy too! THEY ALL KNOW EACH OTHER.

Jamal nudges Kelly’s side. “So,” he murmurs quietly, “I’m thinking your gym theory, but the brother works there too, maybe he does spin class or something. The evil gym owner sent Basket Case a ‘Dear John’ letter while he was shipped out. They’re banding together to rob the place and run away to somewhere beachy.”

"You watched Inside Man again last night, didn’t you?"

"Inside Man is an underappreciated film."

Jamal finishes the drinks and calls out the order. Blond Guy gets up, takes the cardboard carrier, and says thank you like always. As the three at the table start inspecting the sharpie scribbles on the cups to figure out which is theirs, Blond Guy’s hand brushes Vet Guy’s shoulder, just a quick motion as he retakes his seat next to him.

Vet Guy BLUSHES. Tips his head down, puts his coffee cup back on the table to use both hands to move his chair a little closer to Blond Guy’s.

Jamal reappears. “I have a new theory.”


	3. Chapter 3

"Wait, Abercrombie practically always pays in cash, but not the other ones. What about their credit cards?"

"It’s creepy to read someone’s name off their card," Kelly retorts, shaking her head. "Especially when they’re not even buying $20 worth of stuff, so there’s no reason to check."

Jamal huffs. “Bombshell’s never ever bought $20 worth of stuff?”

"Her name is Natasha. Aber— Blond Guy said so. And, and I peeked once, but it’s always one of those weird prepaid cards. Not a regular credit card."

"Hmmmm." Jamal leans back and pulls out his phone, checking for texts. (Danny, he insists, does not reply quickly enough. He’s trying to be ‘cool’ and Jamal is not having it.) "Those’re good if you have bad credit…"

"You think they all have bad credit?"

"I dunno, sweetie. Maybe they’re on the run."

"Maybe." It doesn’t really add up, but it’s still better than Jamal’s ‘polyamorous femme domme cult’ theory. "I mean, I guess I’m still curious, but now that I know they all… that nobody’s getting, like, LIED TO, you know?"

"I wish *I* was hot enough to have like five boyfriends." Jamal sighs wishfully and grins when Kelly gives a genuine giggle. "Maybe that’s why I had such a dry spell. Bombshell’s been snatchin’ ‘em all up."

"Bombshell’s her last name now. I’ve decided."

**

"Two. Of those."

"Okay." Kelly punches in the order for two cookies, pretending she doesn’t notice the intense scrutiny this order is getting from the three people across the room. "Both in the same bag?"

Vet Guy’s confidence crumbles for a moment. The tension is thick in the air. “Yes,” he says finally.

(Out of the corner of her eye, Kelly sees a three-way high-five at the table.)

"Okay." She rings him up, hands him the card back, and gets the tongs in one hand and the paper bag in the other. "What kind do you want?"

Vet Guy points resolutely to oatmeal chocolate chip. Kelly, in a moment she can’t quite account for, gets the urge to sneak a third cookie into the bag. But that might trip him up somehow, make him think he messed up, so she just resolves to suggest the raspberry cheesecake ones next time he’s at the counter. Those things are friggin amazing.

**

"You missed your mystery quartet yesterday," Jamal says, in the gentle way that someone tells someone their dog got run over.

"What? No! They almost never come in on weekends…" Kelly deflates. "My live action soap opera."

"I know," Jamal says sympathetically. "I couldn’t manage to take a photo, so I’ll just tell you: Abercrombie had his arm around Basket’s shoulders THE ENTIRE AFTERNOON."

"Oh my GOD."

"RIGHT?"

**

Vet Guy is up again, ordering for himself. This seems to be the new trend.

"I, um." Vet Guy looks really nervous, comparable to his first sighting, even. He’s staring at the board for once, scanning it. "I don’t know what to order." He sounds like he’s reading off a script. "Can you recommend something."

Over Vet Guy’s shoulder, Kelly sees Blond Guy and Gap Tooth Guy pump the air discreetly in unison. Victory! Sentences! Human interaction! But the happiness is short-lived, because now both men at the table are staring at Kelly, intent, as if willing her to respond correctly.

Kelly cannot handle this kind of pressure. Kelly is not a pressure person. “Well,” she says, equally as awkward, “you’ve already tried all the sandwiches, so I dunno. Have you ever had any of his tart?” She points as politely as she can manage over to Gap Tooth Guy.

Vet Guy looks over his shoulder, then back at Kelly in silent horror. What’d she say?

What

What did

OH GOD OH GOD

"Th- the berry tart, he orders a berry tart! A dessert!" Kelly realizes that she’s almost shouting. "That," she points to the display cabinet. "He orders that. It’s good. It’s swee- it’s good. You could have that. Or. Or a wrap, you could have a wrap. Both! Whatever you want!"

**

"Shut up."

"I’m not saying anything," Jamal insists between gasps, tears streaming down his face.

"SHUT. UP."


	4. Chapter 4

It's been a rough day with several tiny earthquakes and four different brownouts. Apparently there's subway maintenance going on uptown and it's messing up way more than expected.

Jamal is just packing up his bag when someone starts banging on the front door, making the blinds rattle.

"Anyone in there?" Someone's shouting. "I have a lot of money!"

Jamal rolls his eyes and slings his bag over his shoulder. "Night, Kelly. You coming to the thing tomorrow?"

"Not sure," Kelly says, eyeing the door suspiciously. "I'll definitely see you Thursday, though."

"Okay. Be safe." Jamal heads out the back, wisely avoiding whoever the hell is knocking after hours, and Kelly sighs and continues putting the chairs up on the tables.

"So much money!" The person shouts. Kelly lifts her eyebrows, unconvinced, and moseys over to the mop and bucket.

"My name is Tony Stark and I demand entry to this coffee shop!"

Kelly stops.

"Come on, my Iron Man suit can detect life signs in there. Please. Muffins. Whatever it is you sell. I need them. Open up? ...please?"

Kelly, feeling somewhere between a panic attack and a vivid hallucination, grabs the mop, creeps closer to the door, and uses the handle to nudge one of the Venetian blinds just high enough to make out a ruby and gold metallic robot suit. Before she can get a good look, a face she's seen countless times on TV ducks down, smiling hopefully at her.

"Hi?" He says through the glass. "Um, pretty please?"

"H-hi," Kelly says, because, jeez.

"Hi," the man says again, actually really patiently. Maybe he gets this a lot. Actually, he probably got 'this' before he was ever even a superhero. "Would you mind opening the shop back up? I promise I'm, like, the last person who'd ever rob you."

Kelly pulls the broom away from the blinds, letting them fall back down, and leans it against the wall. Takes a breath. Runs over to the counter, where her ring of keys is. "Coming," she calls, belatedly, and is so so glad she thought to get little animal-themed key caps so she could easily tell which work key was which. Front door. Turtle. Got it.

"Thanks," Tony Fucking Goddamn Stark says, and steps inside, looking around. Then he tilts his head like he's talking into a comm. "Someone tell Bucky his wish is granted. Come on over, it's open now."

Kelly tries to think of what to do while also remembering to breathe, and walks over to turn the lights on at least, and maybe even start putting some of the chairs back down. "Um, how many are, um," Kelly swallows. "How many are coming?"

"Seven more. Here, I'll do that. Do you do espressos?" Tony Fucking Goddamn Frigging Oh My God Stark walks over in his Iron Jesus Mary and Joseph Suit and starts scooting tables together and arranging the chairs. Thunder crashes outside, making Kelly jump a little.

"I'm not great with the, I usually, the cashier? I can try."

"Sounds good to me. Hey, Thor, come inside, man. You're gonna scare the locals."

"Friend Tony, the sign here clearly states a requirement for shoes and a shirt, and Bruce has neither."

Tony It's Really Actually Him Stark rolls his eyes, opening the door to reveal an ENORMOUS BLOND MAN IN A CAPE who is carrying a smaller slightly nakeder man in his arms. The man is wearing pants, though, which is, really, a small mercy.

"Bring him in, prop 'im up in a chair, he'll be glad for a coffee when he comes around. Don't worry about his feet." Tony Gosh-Dang Stark holds the door open for FUCKING THOR and the demi-god just strolls in, nudging one of the chairs a little further away from the table so he can sit the grown man in it gently as if he weighs absolutely nothing.

"I'm gonna," Kelly says, and points to the back room, even though nobody is looking at her. She nods, turns, and books it.

**

Three minutes of pure stifled panic attack later, Kelly reemerges, smoothing down the front of her apron. The shirtless shoeless man (HULK, her mind supplies helpfully) is rubbing his face like he's hungover, mumbling something to CAPTAIN AMERICA, who is nodding along, rubbing absently at a singed part of his suit. Next to him, Black Widow is -

Black Widow is -

"Oh my freaking God," Kelly whispers to herself.

Tony Goddamn Stark is standing at the counter asking something about paninis, but Kelly's still staring at Black Widow, at, at Natasha, who's drumming her fingers on the table, watching the door, smiling as Falcon comes in, wiping some dirt off his uniform and Falcon smiles, all gap-toothed and-

"Jesus fucking Christ I'm stupid," Kelly hisses.

"-or if it's got pesto then I- wait, have you been listening to any of this?" Tony Actual Stark squints. "What're you-" He turns to see what she's staring at, then grins. "Yeah, forgot to mention, your coffee place came recommended."

Behind Tony Stark, Captain America laughs at something the Hulk said. Captain America's laugh is. His smile is. That's him.

"Are they all? Are all of them?" Kelly points vaguely, fighting shock. "Where's the fourth one?"

"The fourth what? Are you talking about Bucky? He broke into your men's room to scrub some of the sludge off his face." Tony Stark chews his lip. "If he, um, broke the lock, I'll pay for that."

Kelly nods slowly and stares at the Hulk, at Hawkeye, at Natasha Bombshell and Blond Guy and Gap-Tooth Guy all hanging out at the table. Blond Guy notices her looking over and waves tiredly.

Blankly, Kelly waves back.

"Have they ordered?"

Kelly twirls around (and nearly falls over) to see Other Other Guy, Basket Guy, BUCKY BARNES??, wearing a slightly too-big motorcycle jacket that has faint smears of grime and black ichor on the sleeves. He looks tense as ever.

"No," Kelly manages. "Um, let me get the register going."

"I don't know what I want yet," Bucky Actual Barnes confesses - his hair is way longer than it was in the textbooks, and he's not clean-shaven, but it's totally him oh my god - and his eyes flick up to scan the boards that have been exactly the same for like three weeks as if they're brand new. Behind him, Tony For-Real Stark makes an annoyed noise.

"You picked a place on the other side of the city and you didn't even want anything in particular?"

Captain America (!!!!) shoots him a look. "When you save us all from a madman in a bolted-on mask and green cape, you can pick where we go after."

"Those are very specific terms." Tony Stark huffs and leans back in his chair.

Bucky Barnes rubs his forehead, continuing to squint up at the boards. Kelly gathers her courage.

"Why, um. Why don't you have an outfit?"

"What? Oh." Bucky Barnes's left hand, still wearing motorcycle gloves, fiddles with the zipper of the jacket. "I'm not an Avenger. Someone had th- ... they were stuck somewhere, so I just. I went and got them."

"That's pretty cool," Kelly says quietly.

Bucky shrugs noncommittally, looking uncomfortable.

"Raspberry cheesecake cookies are, um, they're really good."

"What?"

Kelly points at the display case. "They're really good. I can heat 'em up if you want. And milk," she adds suddenly, unable to stop herself. "There's milk for the coffee drinks, you could - sorry, I don't - I mean, you should have whatever you want." She can feel her face burning, silently asking herself why panic always leads to babbling.

Bucky Barnes Who Is Actually Here looks confused, scanning the boards for the zillionth time. "There's. No milk listed."

"It's not an official, like, thing we sell. And we're not supposed to heat up the pastries either, but it's not like my boss is here."

Bombshell - Natasha Romanoff? Black Widow? - comes up behind Bucky Barnes, tilting her head. "Can you make chocolate milk?"

Kelly thinks back to the fridge. "Yes," she says decisively.

"Two of those. And all the cookies you've got." She pulls a familiar black card from her utility belt and slides it along the counter.

"Make it three, please," the exhausted shirtless man at the table calls politely.

"What are we ordering?" Thor asks.

"Chocolate milk and cookies," Bucky Barnes reports almost dutifully.

"I quite enjoy the variety of baked treats available on this planet! This will be an excellent meal."

"Oh my god," Tony Stark says. "Are we really ordering chocolate milk and cookies? Is that our victory dinner?"

"Yes," Hawkeye says simply, in a tone that makes Kelly suspect he's largely going along with it to annoy Tony Stark.

"I'm gonna go warm up the oven," Kelly says, and decides she's got just enough time to squeeze in a couple hyperventilating breaths in the back room between the tray of chocolate chips and the tray of oatmeal raisins.


	5. EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be over at the end of chapter 4 but someone was sad so I decided to try to cheer them up by writing an epilogue. Please enjoy.

“I’m really sorry,” Kelly says, looking anxiously at Jamal’s face as he examines the Stark Cafe ‘Coffee and Assorted Beverages’ recipe sheet.

Jamal looks up. “What’d you say?”

“I said I’m sorry,” she repeats. “I mean, I guess I didn’t think about how you coming here would mean relearning how to make, like, all the drinks, and-” She stops talking as Jamal hovers his hand over her mouth.

“Healthcare,” Jamal enunciates slowly. “Four dollar. Pay. Raise.”

Kelly smiles behind her friend’s hand. “Yeah, I guess that’s-”

Jamal shushes her. “AND,” he continues, clearly not finished, “the possibility of meeting, seducing, and becoming the sugar baby of some hot SHIELD agent.”

Kelly rolls her eyes.

**

There aren’t actually many SHIELD agents in Stark Tower. Most people who come to the cafe on level 10 are in sales or accounting, or are wearing bright purple visitor’s badges with different numbers on them. Kelly learns to push those customers toward certain drinks and not others, because a couple coffee options on the menu are only for the deeply exhausted and alarmingly behind schedule.

(During one night shift Kelly served a R&D man with dark circles under his eyes who ordered four of those triple-pump Stark Strikes, and all Kelly could think as she watched him disappear into the elevator was that she desperately hoped that he had at least three coworkers waiting for him upstairs... because if not, he would probably go into cardiac arrest before morning.)

Jamal flirts harmlessly with the women in sales, and they love it. Jamal _also_ flirts with a select few of the men in accounts, all of whom are the type to blush furiously and mumble and run away with their drinks. (And then add him on LinkedIn, Kelly finds out later.)

Kelly liked a lot of things about her life at the old cafe, but this is even better. And the job security can’t be beat.

**

“Do you,” Bucky Actual Barnes says, eyes tracking uncertainly over the LCD display screens with the menu options, “have… muffins?”

“Yes,” Kelly says, and very slowly lifts her hand to gesture to the far left screen. “Under breakfast, we’ve got banana nut, and, um-” Something is moving very fast over in the corner. It’s Steve Rogers, making a cutting gesture across his throat. “Buuuuut, the other ones are better,” she tries, and Steve Rogers starts nodding vigorously. “The, um, the blueberry, and the white chocolate chip,”

“Sorry, a what?”

“White chocolate chip,” Kelly repeats, and then realizes, that, oh. “Um, it might be new? To you? White chocolate is,” oh god. What is white chocolate. It’s not chocolate but it’s like a chocolate cousin, a direct relative, oh no,

“White chocolate is made from cocoa butter,” Jamal cuts in smoothly. “So it tastes really similar. Less caffeine. Tastes like milk chocolate with vanilla, kinda.”

Kelly watches mutely as Jamal pulls up a tasting plate he made out of the rejects in the baking room - he sticks a toothpick in a small lump of muffin with tiny white chocolate specks in it.

Bucky looks at the plate of crumbly miscellany, and then at Kelly.

“Samples are free,” Kelly assures.

Bucky nods, then stares a little longer at the plate. He picks up the toothpick.

**

“You saved me with that chocolate thing. How did you know all that?”

“History of Food, sophomore year.” Jamal tosses his head just so, making his dreads fan out before dropping back down.

Kelly smiles at him, squeezing his forearm in a brief work appropriate hug before looking across the vast, Sunday-empty cafe to where Bucky For Real Barnes and Steve Alive and Smiling Rogers are talking over a red tray of breakfast foods.

“It worked, too,” Jamal adds in a wry tone.

Kelly straightens in alarm and stares at him. “You’re trying to get Bucky to like you?”

Jamal levels her a look. “Every time you’re nice to Barnes, Rogers looks at you like you just saved an orphanage,” he points out.

Kelly mulls it over. “Oh,” she says, and then looks at the far table again. “You’re…?”

“Let a man dream, Kell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely MUST edit this story to add this fabulous [fanart](http://yawpkatsi.tumblr.com/post/165241181642/commission-for-the-lovely-zepysgirl-this-is-a) created by yawpkatsi and commissioned by zepysgirl. The mound of sammiches, the tiny tart. Where do I begin? It is perfection.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Kelly, the Well-Meaning and Very Confused Barista [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4840505) by [blackglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackglass/pseuds/blackglass)




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